This Crown of Thorns
by A x Stupid x Lamb
Summary: Legolas returns after the destruction of the ring, thrown back into the complex relationship he has with his father. Battleworn and weary, Legolas hates the crowns they both wear on their troubled heads. Will Legolas ever get to the bottom of the troubles with his father and reconcile with his Adar?
1. Chapter 1

Hey guys I hope you enjoy this, it's a look into the relationship between Legolas and Thranduil. Anything written in italics is meant to be sindarin! :D

Please review and tell me what you guys think :)

Many thanks!

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Legolas stared at his reflection in the mirror. His blond hair naturally stayed perfectly in place, the coronet making him seem every bit the prince his title claimed. He hated it, but he was a prince, and his father expected for all formal occasions that he "looked" a prince. So the tight coronet stayed put, a single braid running down the back of his head, the rest of his hair underneath lying loose. It was the style he always wore for any formal gathering. There was of course a reason. As the fellowship soon found out normally he would wear two braids on each side of his head as well, signifying to others he was a warrior… an archer. Yet today that was not his role. So only the large braid remained, signifying his royal status. The coronet also made it impossible to wear his archer braids anyway.

His clothes were equally lavish today and he felt very constricted, but again today he was not Legolas, master bowman. He was Legolas Thranduilion, Prince of Mirkwood. With a gentle sigh he raised from the seat, headed out the door and down a corridor. The all too familiar winding staircases of Mirkwood palace greeted him and he was amazed when no one ever got lost in its vast chambers and walkways. There was no way of ensuring you would not fall from either side of these stairwells but that was never an issue, for in Mirkwood you learned to walk and balance, and you learnt very quickly. Legolas was walking these stairs before even half a year had gone by since his birth. Talking was very soon after that. Of course this would seem such a short time, but elves are a master of their own body and are walking, talking and dancing before they are 1 year old. Finally the prince had one staircase left, one that lead to his father's throne. He could see him already, as there were no walls to block the view. He climbed the stairs effortlessly and stood in front of his father, who had an unreadable expression gracing his features. Without thinking, legolas placed his right hand over his heart, lowering his head. An elvish form of bowing as many knew. This was all common place, part of the façade of royalty. Unlike most father/son relationships he would not run up to him, pulling him into a hug. He would not pat him on the shoulder, such a carefree gesture, and smile, completely at ease. No, there were expectations here, and they were to be obeyed. Oh his father was not harsh, no. But strict, yes. He understood, of course, but Legolas couldn't help but look back on the times this got in the way of their relationship. It got worse after his mother sailed to Valinor, his father sought gems and riches, to try and replace the one gem he'd lost that was priceless in this world. Legolas was then left behind a bit by his father, but kept just within reach to check on him. His thoughts were soon interrupted however when a voice spoke to him in Sindarin.

"_So it is true, you DID survive and return from your quest." _His father remarked.

"_Aye, sir, I am unharmed"_ legolas replied. Using sindarin felt strange after its significant disuse during the fellowship, indeed it was a few seconds before Legolas even spoke. Both could of course speak Westron, yet this was again a formality. It of course also made sense, they were elves… they should speak "elvish".

"_You must of course inform me of everything that has transpired and maybe you would also grace me with a reason as to why you decided it would be fitting for the heir of Mirkwood to go on a highly dangerous quest for 6 months and with a dwarf at that."_ There was no hint of anger in the tone of his voice, yet the words said enough and expressed what shouting could equally have done. Legolas just said to himself: it's okay, he's just worried about you, he missed you, he cares for you. While in reality he replied.

"My apologies, my king, forgive me" The king tilted his head to one side, and then rose from his throne, walking until he stood just in front of his son. Then he tilted Legolas's cheek to face him, where a light scar could just be seen. The remnants of a much worse cut, but with elvish healing it had almost disappeared, soon even the scar would.

"Unharmed you say" The King whispered, and Legolas thought that if he could, his father would have shaken his head. Such a "parent" thing to do, but the king did not, all he heard, and very faintly at that, was a sigh. He simply released his hold, turned and sat back on the throne, then a simple flick of his wrist and Legolas was dismissed. The young Prince bowed again and left.

Alone again in his chambers Legolas removed the coronet gently, placing it on the table. He sat in the chair nearby, well more like sank into the chair, and thought. He did this a lot. He was never a talkative person for example when at Moria, Legolas could have easily stated what the "riddle" had said on the gate, but he instead left it to Gandalf to translate. He simply liked peace. Peace and … silence. This was what he loved about the trees, the nature, everything. It was only him and them, nothing else. Such tranquillity. His heart tried to persuade him to go there now, but his head reasoned that he still had business to do in the palace. For now however he changed his clothes into something less… "prince-y" and settled back down, a book in his hands. This was where he was an hour later when a knock sounded from his door.

"_minno_!" He called, beckoning whoever it was inside. A council member stepped through, bowed and began talking, while Legolas placed his book aside.

"greetings prince, the King requests your presence in his chambers at the earliest convenience" Was all they said. The prince nodded briefly and began to stand.

"hannon le" Was the reply, dismissing the lord. Legolas put the book away properly this time and then made his way to his father's chambers. 'Earliest convenience' was just a polite way of saying 'right now'. He knocked on the wooden door and heard the same command he has just used on the lord after a few seconds. He swiftly opened the door, stepped over the threshold and closed it again before he looked around. His father was sat in the corner by the fire, gazing into the flames as if they were speaking to him. Minutes passed silently before he gestured to a chair next to him. Legolas gracefully walked across the room to sit there, a slight feeling of unease building in him. He noticed his father had also lost his kingly robes, obviously settling down for the evening, the crown was also gone. He looked… almost normal. Nothing special about him. Of course the way he held himself suggested even then an air of royalty but for the briefest of moments, Legolas could have sworn…

"Amman?" The voice of his father was quiet but unmistakably he had spoken. He asked why…

"Amman man?" The typical response… why what? His father gazed up at him, looking him in the eye. Legolas looked away in slight shame, he knew what his father was asking.

"I don't know" He whispered to himself in Westron. Yet his father heard and replied back, switching to westron as well.

"You do not know why you went on this 'fellowship' as it's been called I hear" Legolas stopped himself from just saying "no" and instead thought of an answer.

"It was my fault Gollum escaped, it was my job to find him again and bring him back, the fellowship was the easiest way of doing it, I knew he'd be after the ring and so if I followed the ring, Gollum would follow me." He justified. His father this time snapped his head up to stare at his son.

"You… you did this over that creature?" he asked, sceptical. The elf prince simply nodded. Silence engulfed the two for what seemed an age. Thranduill continued to stare into the fire, a glass of wine elegantly glasped in his hand and Legolas took to this as well, wondering what the man next to him was thinking. Eventually the silence was broken.

"I suppose I should be grateful you sent a messenger to me, telling me you were back and would be staying in Minis Tirith until the coronation of the King of Gondor." Thranduil began, "and also that you remained in one piece" he added. Legolas took this to mean "I'm glad you're okay, son".

"But enough of this, I cannot change what has past, but tell me, in truth, how fares your health? I cannot have the Prince of Mirkwood injured" An almost fatherly question, Legolas was shocked. It was phrased formall y but it was definitely there…

"I am well… Adar." He answered, but cringed when he let the word "father" come out, he was never allowed to call him this in public, and rarely in private. Thranduil was nothing, if not formal. Yet this time the elven King simply smiled, brief and small, but it was there.

"That is good to hear…Ion" Came the reply. Legolas raised his eyebrows, to be called son… he had not been called that for a very long time and it was strange hearing it and meaning him. It was always just 'Legolas' or 'the prince'. This time Legolas did smile, but in sadness. It just reminded him of how much of his father he's lost because of a crown he wore on his overburdened head.

"And you, how are you?" Legolas enquired after a while. To this Thranduil copied his son's reaction earlier: he raised his eyebrows.

"I am in fine health" To this Legolas simply nodded, muttering the word "good" to himself.

"_Now if you would excuse me I have some last minute paperwork to attend to" _So absorbed in the conversation was Legolas that he forgot he wasn't speaking Sindarin, neither was his father. The sudden reappearance of it took a moment to get used to and with these words the complete formality was back and Legolas got up quickly.

"_Of course sir, goodnight" _He rushed out, walking towards the door. He hesitated at the exit, expecting the king to say something but nothing came. The Prince exited, closing the door behind him. Outside he just stood there for a moment, before retreating back to his own room. Once there he gathered a cloak, fastened it over himself and took off into the gardens of the palace. At this late hour there was no one here and Legolas felt comfort in that. He sat on a stone bench, facing a fountain , in the centre of which was a beautiful tree, the leaves billowed gently in the wind. As was common with all Mirkwood elves he heard the tree. Telling tales of old. Singing. Lamenting.

Legolas had felt like lamenting too. His father confused him. Calling him son today had struck the young elf's heart. It made him remember happier times. He remembered running into a council meeting once when he was a year old screaming: _"ada! I want to play!" _His father excused himself momentarily from the meeting, picked him up, taking him back to the little one's room. Placing him on the bed he said in a stern voice.

"_Legolas thranduilion you do not enter the council room when it is in session do you?"_ To which the elfling squirmed and then replied _"no ada, sorry, I just wanted to play, I've been really bored" _ The king looked down at his little son, and smiled lightly.

"_I know greenleaf, but you cannot do it again. It makes me take even longer before I can spend time with you doesn't it."_ The little blond head nodded. Then all of a sudden he got up and hugged the man. At first Thranduil didn't respond, he wasn't keen on such close proximity and showing of affection, but in the end he lightly returned the hug. Quickly after the hug broke Legolas looked up:

"_Sorry ada, I won't do it again"_ He promised even trying to do an elvish bow with it, but he bowed his head too low and his hand wasn't in the right place to be a proper bow. At this Thranduil laughed while he made to leave. He took one last glance at his son, so much like 'her' and left silently while Legolas ran off to play with his toys.

That moment Legolas remembered and treasured. Sure his father had been formal even then, but there was still hope there and he still cared. Of course he still did… but the years had played havoc on the King and Legolas wasn't sure where he stood with the man anymore. It was then he realised he was crying, tears of frustration and misery. This damn crown of his is what the problem was, if he wasn't king maybe he would be like… normal fathers. He rubs at his eyes furiously. He was almost 3000 years old, he should have better control of his emotions!

"_Tears, my I haven't seen you cry since … since your mother passed into Valinor"_ At his father's voice Legolas shot up, turning away so his face couldn't be seen.

"_Sorry, i… I did not wake you did i?"_ He stuttered, thinking maybe the man had chosen to sleep tonight. Elves didn't need sleep as often as mortal men. They could "day sleep" but they could also sleep normally. Day sleeping healed the mind some. Real sleep healed the body too.

"_No, I thought a trip to the gardens would help clear my mind, the paperwork was starting to become mind-numbing at best. There was more than expected."_ The younger elf simply nodded in a "ah I see" gesture.

"_Sit with me"_ Thranduil said, gesture to the stone bench Legolas had just vacated. Awkwardly they sat next to eachother until the eleven King spoke again.

"_Care to explain why I come to find you here, crying?"_ He enquired. His expression gave nothing away however.

"_I…"_ Where did he even begin to explain what he was feeling.

"There is no one here, I sent the guards away. If that is what ails you." This news was a relief but still how did you tell your father he had changed and that he missed the old him…

Legolas sighed… this may take some time…

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Minno: The imperative form (a command) of the word minna, meaning "to enter" in sindarin.

Adar: means Father, the short form Ada is associated more with "dad" or "daddy"


	2. Chapter 2

"_I will in all my best try to inform you as to my current emotional state…"_ Legolas began, fear in his eyes.

"_Not so formally Legolas, you are not in court now, you are sitting with your father on a rather silent evening." _At this the younger Elf glanced at the figure to the side of him. Yes… his father. The father who had fashioned his son into a warrior and had closed himself off from his emotions. Legolas of course didn't voice these opinions, merely nodded before trying again.

"_I have just been… melancholy of late. Too many thoughts in my head I guess. Mother, the Fellowship… you," _he admitted. The King raised one perfect eyebrow at the last word.

"_Why me? There is nothing of which you need to concern yourself with Legolas, I am fine." _He assured before grasping the Prince's chin with one hand, forcing the young Elf to look at him.

"_Tell me what really weighs on your heart little one" _Legolas gritted his teeth a little at the lack of control he felt, before finally admitting to the man what was going on.

"_The sea longing Sir, I feel it."_ The words were but a whisper, carried through the night air, drifting into the ears of the Elvenking, who now sat woefully still, searching in Legolas' eyes for something to give away a lie. When nothing seemed forthcoming his arm dropped to his side and he turned his face away.

"_When will you sail?_" Was all he asked, his tone deliberately void of all emotion, it was a simple question.

"_I cannot say; I will stay until the Fellowship has broken, until they have departed this world, then my job here is complete." At this damning news Thranduil rose in a single fluid movement before standing in front of Legolas and crouching before him._

"_You are so young to be burdened with such a thing. This news breaks my heart… Son. You tell me you have at most… one hundred and fifty years left to walk middle earth. That is nothing; that goes by in the blink of an eye for an Elf. Yet…" A sigh then echoed in the atmosphere, "I will tell you what I told your mother. I cannot take the sea longing away, I cannot take away the conflicted emotions that it brings. You want to go but at the same time you want to stay. When the time is right, Legolas, then go, be happy, live out your days in the Undying Lands in peace and wait for me there, maybe then we can be a family again… a TRUE family." _A happy smile formed on Legolas' fair face… that sounded good.

"_You think I have not noticed the way you look at me?" _Thranduil said casually,_ "the longing in your eyes: you desire a father/son relationship I cannot give you. The price we pay for royalty." _His tone had become completely serious by the end and the younger Elf found himself once against gritting his teeth. He couldn't take much more of this emotional stuff, he'd prided himself of being in control of his body, his mind, and by extension his emotions, and now all of that was being ruined in a single night. In a flash he stood and turned to his father.

"_That crown you wear has ruined you. Those jewels and riches you seek will not bring mother back. You push yourself away, slipping on this mask of a king, of formality, you fashion me into weapons, demand I be better than my best but let me tell you this. I can't do it anymore, it hurts too much." _And with that he left the gardens, walking hastily back to his own room, where he could find solace and just be alone. Once there he sat on the edge of his bed, sinking into the softness, a small comfort as he flicked his gazed around the room. The unwilling prince then noticed on his desk, glittering slightly, his coronet. Blindly he reached for it, holding it in his hands limply. Without giving it a second thought he bent the fragile piece of art until he heard a satisfying snap. He tossed it to the ground where the pieces landed lifelessly with a thud. Not feeling up to too much else, the Prince got ready for bed and fell into a proper sleep that night, he wanted to escape for a few hours.

This was how he was found by Thranduil a little over an hour later, peacefully sleeping. His face relaxed and at ease in the realm of his dreams. The King smiled sadly at this sight of his only son as he wandered around his room. He heard a crunch under his feet and he looked down to find the snapped remains of the coronet and Thranduil sighed once again that day. He bent and picked up the pieces, letting them slide between his fingers as he briefly considered what to do. He made his way to the armchair and remained there for an indistinct amount of time. Just watching the rise and fall of his son's chest, the peaceful expression planted on his face, Thranduil felt more at ease. He had some choices to make. Heading to exit the room he placed the pieces of the coronet on the desk and took one last glance at his troubled son before shutting the door, heading to his own chambers to get some peace before another day began.

Legolas arose to the sounds of birds chirping and the wind bustling through the trees. He always thought that this was a perfect way to be woken. Peace showed in his features as he slowly sat up, noticing the sun shining through into his room, beaming it's warmth into the large room and also into the young Elf's heart. Legolas remained this way for a few minutes, basking in the rays of the sun, before the events of the previous night replayed themselves, breaking through the momentary peace the morning had brought. The sun now brought with it a foreboding, another day, his father would probably summon him to lecture him or something of equal tedium. After a gentle sigh he gracefully pulled the covers aside, before engaging the daily ritual that was getting dressed. Clad in his typical green and brown he donned his bow and quiver and set of for the kitchens, where he ate a quick meal, forgoing the debacle of eating with his father in the dining hall. He then traversed down the steps to the forest floor, his final destination being the archery range.

Legolas never came to the range to hone his skills, oh no, he was well past that level. Instead it eased his mind and brought with it a calming influence. The repetition was well known to the elf and therefore comforting. Something was satisfying about those tiny arrowheads piercing the targets in quick succession. He never missed. One after the other he'd fire before running out of arrows. He'd then head to the target, retrieving the arrows again, and the process started again. When he was merely an elfling, a young one at that, he decided he much preferred fighting at a distance, as opposed to hand to hand combat. He at first declined profusely to learn the art of fighting with knives. Yet in the end he relented, at his father's wishes, and was now equally skilled at both styles of warfare. His preference would forever lie with the bow though, it just felt right. The warriors of Mirkwood had training in both styles but the rule was to be an archer first, and only when things got really bad, or the enemy too close, that hand to hand combat could commence. This was a sign as to how well the battle was going. Legolas stopped his actions suddenly, all these thoughts on fighting just proved what he had heatedly said to his father last night. Fashioned into weapons… indeed.

Collecting his arrows with a little more force than strictly necessary he decided to take a walk through the forest for a while before lunch to pass the time. The trees sung to him as his came into their presence, as was typical for a woodelf. As he walked lazily he'd brush his hands along the sturdy trunks, feeling at one with nature. Such a Mirkwood thing: all elves felt some connection to the earth but for some reason the Mirkwood strain of elf were particularly prone to its call. This was probably due to Oropher, Legolas' grandfather, causing the elves to revert to a simpler time here in the trees. The Rivendell elves, the Lorien elves and indeed most other settlements were curious and mildly amused by the way of life here, but to Legolas, it was natural… it was home.

The peaceful elf eventually came across a clearing on a hill where a small lake was viable, disappearing somewhere into the vast expanse of the forest. Deciding to take up residence there for a while, Legolas deposited his weapons, took off his boots, and sat at the riverside, his feet hanging in the lake, the water lapping around his ankles happily. It was here he managed to take stock of what was going on lately. He felt out of sorts, like he for once in his almost 3000 years didn't know what to do. He knew soon he would contact Gimli as promised and they would set off for Fangorn Forest; he longed to unravel the mysteries kept there. Legolas was not so blind however to know that he must sort out business here before setting off once again; he couldn't leave on bad terms with his father.

Sighing he tried to purge himself of his thoughts, laying back and basking in the sunlight. He could hear the water flowing, gently lapping at the bank. He could also hear a deer nearby, probably grazing happily, minding it's own business. Finally he could also hear… footsteps? Faint but unmistakably there. In a flash Legolas was up, bow ready and armed, pointing in the direction of where the footsteps where coming from. He waited…

The footsteps grew closer and closer, louder and louder. A twig snapped, branches rustled and golden hair came into view. Tensing, Legolas braced himself. He did not expect however the king to step into the clearing, his face in a perfect mask of calm. He was not troubled by the fact his son was standing, aiming a weapon at him, barefoot. Legolas upon seeing him immediately unarmed his bow, placing it back on the floor by him and he retook his place at the river, as if nothing has happened.

Great, would the man not leave him be for just a few more hours?


End file.
